


Midnight Train

by iamamiwhoami



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, F/F, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Loneliness, ReignCorp, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamamiwhoami/pseuds/iamamiwhoami
Summary: After defeating Reign, Sam walks away and Lena realizes that not even the countless experiences of past losses can protect her from pain.





	Midnight Train

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Defined after season 3. We didn't have a proper farewell and it hurts me and I ended up hurting myself even more here.
> 
>  
> 
> Inspired by "Midnight Train", Sam Smith. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. :)

 

When the law interrogates and presses her against all the walls, J'onn J'onzz is who interferes with the DEO and its powers.

When the squad of journalists and photographers surround her and the camera lights hurt her eyes, Alex pushes them away with force and determination, ordering them to disappear.

When her scientists and executives begin to doubt her ability to run the company, Brainy keeps them busy with futuristic ideas.

When phones go crazy at CATCO, James is the one who commands every sector and employee with temperance, dealing with every circumstance in the most discreet way possible.

When her apartment becomes a graveyard of empty bottles, Kara is the one who collects the countless shards and supplies the pantry.

The world continues to transform as Lena Luthor feels herself crumbling through long, silent days. The world continues, as it should and must always continue, but Lena is simply petrified, lost in an absolute void between despair and conformism. Resigned on her porch, with one more of so many wine glasses on the marble of the parapet, her eyes stare at the resignation letter, the last vestige, with the pretty, simple signature at the bottom of the page.

_Samantha Arias._

She hates not being able to file the document and forget about it once and for all. She hates to possess nothing but this, not even a note of few words. She hates being so used to loss in its many forms – her biological mother, Lionel, Lillian, Lex, Jack, and even Supergirl – and not being able to cross it, not being able to feel anything but the immense damage of absence pushing her down.

All the seats seem spacious and too quiet at the same time that they seem suffocating and chaotic. Locked up in her own affliction, Lena is fully aware of the fragile extremes on which she balances, and despite the severe years of ideal public postures and emotional detachment in the face of disappointment, she finds herself trapped and haunted by the memories of this loss she never imagined the power to break it, perhaps, irreversibly.

If it were not for the tears she tries so desperately to swallow, the breath would cross her almost limp, for her last strength is saved by the fact that Lillian is not around to see her. In the stillness of the porch, with cars and horns tearing the night below, far away to tell, she can swear to hear her mother's sentences and how she would think she was pathetic and weak. But everything – and Lena knows that this 'everything' means being closer and closer to her own limits and abyss – everything seems more attractive, more comforting, more merciful than containing the end of all hope in pain.

And Lena is so, so tired of feeling pain...

 _What did you expect?_ – She punishes herself in silence with severity, overwhelmed by the echoes of many voices beyond Lillian in her thoughts. What did you expect? That Samantha would come out of the DEO reinvigorated and rebuilt? That Samantha would return to the L-Corp and go on with the peaceful and full life she deserved and fought so hard against Reign and the fate imposed upon her?

_Did you think she would stay with you?_

_What a fool..._

Poor little thing, fool, Lena Luthor.

Although damaged by the more excruciating evidence than expectations of major risks can cause, she waited. Lena nourished every expectation, every miserable desire. She waited for Samantha and Ruby to remain in her life. She hoped to be a part of and be welcome in the healing process. Because she is so, so thirsty for cure. Of all the cures.

Lena had hoped a much more complete world would open when, in the DEO's hospital wing, she kissed Ruby's forehead and smiled at Samantha in a fleeting farewell. Lena waited anxiously for everything when she said to Sam: _"I'll be back in the morning."_ And how, how could she, with her brilliant mind and familiarity with deception, have been unable to predict that the next day would reach the DEO and there would be no more traces of Samantha or Ruby, only the guilty faces of Agent Danvers and Supergirl?

Fool...

Poor little thing, fool, Lena Luthor.

_When are you going to learn?_

 

The sequence of damage and misfortune was suddenly unstoppable. The lab that held Reign captive, ruined. The ending with James, disastrous. The distraction in meetings and conferences, constant. Brief bouts of compulsive, unbearable tears. Self-imposed, growing isolation. The excesses of decay, aggravating.

Alex was with her sometimes on the porch with the finest whiskey and an accomplice smile she almost fears to understand deeply, both missing someone, almost as if they had known each other for too long and now they can feel the same in silence.

Kara, as always, can not remain silent, but there is a universe replete with comfort in her ramblings. Like an unquenchable flame in endless darkness. With each long story and idea, every new report and success, she makes a point, in the most graceful way, of encouraging and celebrating it.

James makes a single request: _"We can still be friends, can't we?"_

Brainy is a curious occurrence, one that Lena wishes to dispel in the immediate moment, but the overflowing charm, perhaps similar to Kara's, prevents her from refusing him. The coluan, watching her on one of the countless days when she seemed more unrecoverable than ever, ignores the daily research reports, sits down comfortably on her couch, and invites her to a chess match. Before leaving her, after a win and a draw, he says only:

_"Pain is a constant in all universes, as well as joy. All of us, all beings, every day, year and century, are capable of absolute devastation and delights, of disasters and triumphs. So it is at this time and so is four hundred years into the future, Miss Luthor. What I have always admired in the human race, though many have been hostile to mine, is to go through all these transformations and to overcome them, to adapt to them. Live them. Live, Miss Luthor. Live everything."_

Lena knows she wants to live. She always wanted to live. Out of all rejection and adversity, when the burden of her last name seemed overwhelming and too fatiguing to bear; when loneliness became monstrous and tyrannical through fear and mistrust, Lena still wanted to live and contribute to a better world.

With so many goodbye marks, she was convinced that it would be easier and easier to say goodbye. Losing her mother so early and going to the Luthor mansion was traumatic and terrifying. Losing Lionel was devastating, but not as bad as losing her mother. Losing Lex to his diabolical madness was desperate, but not as bad as losing her father. Losing Lillian for this similar madness didn't hurt as much as losing Lex. Losing Jack to save National City's hero, even less. And losing Supergirl was, in the end, as if she was already waiting for a day to happen and ruin everything.

Lena became more and more resistant to every damage.

Saying goodbye has become a deal of her labyrinthine existence.

Now with alcohol intoxicating her most secret thoughts, she begins to absorb that not even all the serious experiences of loss are enough to protect her. Samantha Arias left without goodbyes, without counted reasons, without Lena could predict the depth of the fall.

_What a fool..._

Poor little thing, fool, Lena Luthor.

_Will you ever, ever learn?_

Tears trickle down and stain the flawlessness of her face masked by the days that drag on misery. She tosses the crystal goblet onto the floor of the L-Corp's porch and tramples the shards with a horrid growl stuck in her throat; so, but so tired of hurting. So tired of crying and sobbing as never before, so tired of feeling weak and unable to cross that loss, unable to silence her voice and blind the beautiful smile of Samantha Arias. The days, the weeks, the months breaking her so quickly...

What would Sam say if he saw her like this?

Her knees are falling against the shards of crystal when strong, soft hands hold her upright. Her eyes, with much effort, rise to find a blue pair, worried and gentle; her, the great hero, Supergirl. The one that has suffered so many losses. Lena wants to push her away. She hates to see herself vulnerable before her, as if no one else could offer the understanding that the Kryptonian offers in the face of loss. Their relationship, which Lena thought was a distant and silent friendship, though damaged, is still there, inescapable.

Mutual knowledge. Mutual sadness. Mutual compassion.

All channels broadcast news reports celebrating a year since the defeat of Reign and the glory of the heroes. That's when Lena collapses again, huddled like a desolate child into her office. The dark night devours her as long fingers caress her battered hair and Lena raises her swollen, red eyes with crossed arms on the table. Surprisingly, Lillian observes her with compassion and affection in a way the heiress has always longed to receive. Two of the CADMUS henchmen guard the doors and Lena doesn't even have the strength to trigger the security or even the DEO, the touch making her lethargic and the absence of her mother's usual venom tearing away even more tears.

 

And then, sooner or later, she understands without pretense.

She was just a little girl when she lost her mother and she does not remember perfectly the circumstances and dimensions, only the immediate lack. When Lionel passed away, his corruptions, prejudices, and unlawful acts came to light. When she lost Lex and Lillian to their degenerate minds, she remembered Lionel and she almost believed in an irremediable curse that fell on the Luthor. When she lost Jack, though she wanted to save Supergirl, she knew there was no escape, and she knew, unfortunately, that she had already lost him in all other ways. And finally, when she lost Supergirl, she returned to the thought of the curse of her name and at the same time told herself that the hero would still save the world and protect her, even if nothing else could be so peaceful between them as it was before.

Losing Samantha was a completely different despair. Completely different collapses and debris. Samantha was completely different from everyone else. Samantha was a good thing, maybe too good, too innocent, pure and unselfish, and so strong and so tender. She was not an alien superhero or an evil genius, nor was a genius compelled to do evil without defense.

She was just Samantha Arias.

Sam. Her Sam.

Her Sam, who left without saying goodbye.

And this pain consumed Lena so mercilessly that she did not find, after seeking so persistently, the courage to search for her.

Because she chose.

Samantha chose to leave and Lena simply let her go.

Whether out of necessity or terror, Samantha chose. And she could not interfere.

She can only feel the pain.

 

When the snowflakes cover National City and she sends grandiose gifts to everyone celebrating in Kara's apartment, the reporter gently accepting her absence, Lena returns alone to the L-Corp and serves up the wine again in a new glass of crystal. Until, on this cloudy and silent day, she finds a small package on her desk, left by the secretary who said it had come from the postman. She picks it up and gazes cautiously, the last sip of wine still tasting in her mouth. It is red, with a delicate black ribbon enveloping it. She opens it with the same caution, and her misty eyes gleam with fear and fascination.

Inside, a photograph.

A drop of memory that makes her heart soar.

Ruby, wrapped in a large yellow scarf, coat and gloves, smiles at the camera in a tone of mischief. Behind her, seated in a graceful swing, with a wool cap and steaming coffee in her hands, the snow as scenery, finally she. Her hair is shorter and her eyes look tired, but her amiable smile is there.

_Sam._

Overloaded, Lena holds the picture with both hands, as a valuable asset to risk loosening, and turns to read the verse. Few words, brief, cursive and almost sweet.

_"Every day I want to board the next train and run back to you._

_Merry Christmas, Lena. I don't want you to be alone."_

 

_Run back to you..._

 

Later, when the door to Kara's apartment opens and and she finds herself standing still with tears in her eyes, Alex rushes to embrace her with a protective, warm force that Lena, trembling, never expected to receive from her. And Kara, with her sunny smile, no words needed, wraps her in a thick scarf and carries her inside.

 

At the beginning of the troubled semester, after long and exhausting conferences and meetings, a small accident in the laboratory and a statement about the second unit of the Children's Hospital, Lena finally rests with a sigh in her quiet, warm office in the first hour of nightfall. Her eyes searches and admires the faces of Ruby and Sam in the photograph now framed on the table, and she smiles with the awareness that she could flip through all the following instants admiring and projecting the circumstances that made up something so spontaneous, beautiful, and simple as the picture before her.

She wonders if she will hear Ruby's boisterous and excited voice about science and superheroes again; and whether she will glimpse Samantha's dazzling smile again.

In secret, she begs tha she will.

The world continues to transform and doesn't hurt as much as before. The world goes on, as it should and always must go on, and the pain slows down. It is a sleeping pain, a quiet and resigned pain in the back of her mind, with many other pains. Lena leaves them there, guarded. She respects and understands them. They're hers. Everything that hurts and also what rebuilds, all the transformations, belong to her.

And it sounds a bit like _hope_.

And Lena, still with her eyes on the picture, smiling as if she's about to meet her again, her Sam, and flow all the unspoken words of her heart, frank and sincere, into Sam's heart, simply allows herself to appreciate this sound.

_What a fool..._

 

She hopes she'll never, never learn.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love you so much that I have to let you go... ♪
> 
> See you guys soon!
> 
> Find me on twitter: @dokkstormur.


End file.
